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I would like to share with you a few reflections and memories.

 

Ferne was full of life.  She was bigger than life.  She was one in a million, one in a billion, one in a gazillion.  She was beautiful on the outside and beautiful on the inside.  She was indeed a very special person.

 

I consider myself so blessed to have had the most amazing mother-in-law.  She was the best.

 

She was so loving, so giving, so generous.  She had so much energy.  She was so capable.  She had an amazing work ethic.  She could get things done better and quicker than anyone else.  Her internal motor was always running on fifth gear.  She was many things to many people.  She was a very special, loving person.  Ferne had such a big heart.  She has always so good to me. 

 

Ferne always did things in a big way, always extending the welcome mat.  When I first met Jill, we were teaching swimming and working as life guards.  One day, Jill invited me up to her house to meet her mom.  The only problem was that I only had a 15-minute break.  Ferne decided to help Jill fix a little snack for me.  I couldn’t believe what they prepared for me.  When I got there, I was greeted with an amazing dinner that included a huge t-bone steak, baked potato, salad, and corn on the cobb.  That was my introduction to Ferne, someone who always did things in a big way. 

 

Ferne was an amazing friend magnet.  Others were drawn to her.  She was always so helpful and giving.  It was no accident that she was surrounded with so many wonderful people—dear people like Madeline and Lyle Bartch, Irene and Chet Lebsack, Gene and Troy Lester, and Mary and Tony Sanchez.  She was always so helpful, brought so much joy to their lives, and they so much appreciated her presence in their lives. 

 

One of my favorite Ferne stories was the time when her friend, Madeline, lost her wedding ring.  It somehow fell down into the furnace and under the floor.  She was so afraid of how her husband Lyle would react.  Ferne said, “No problem.  I’ll just crawl down under the house and retrieve the ring.  And that is exactly what she did.  It wasn’t easy.  She crawled under the house with all that dirt and insects, located the furnace, and recovered that ring.  Madeline was so relieved. 

 

Ferne was an amazing sister, raised on the farm in Harlan, Iowa, with her three brothers, Larry, Dwight, and Dale.  She learned how to hold her own.  Those same brothers, who had given her such a bad time while growing up, came to be very close.  She loved them very much and would do anything to help them when they needed help.  She extended that love and help to her brother Dale’s children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.   Ferne was also a very devoted daughter.  For many years, she took care of her mom on a daily basis, wrapping her legs and helping her get around since she was wheel-chair bound. 

 

Ferne was an amazing teacher.  She loved teaching kindergarten.  It was no surprise that her kindergarteners and their parents fell in love with her.  Playing the piano and teaching her kids those wonderful songs was an important part of her teaching method.  She so much enjoyed seeing her little kindergarteners grow up and was thrilled to visit with them during those reunions year after year.  Not surprisingly, they were thrilled to visit with her.

 

Ferne loved to play the piano, accompanying her friends enjoying singing familiar songs and Christmas carols.  I can picture her at the piano, playing those familiar tunes, at Christmas time, and at gatherings when she enjoyed sharing her repertoire of kindergarten songs. 

 

One of my favorites (I won’t try to sing it) asked a series of questions: Do your ears hang low? Do they bobble to and fro?  Can you tie them in a knot? Can your tie them in a bow? Can you toss them over your shoulder like a continental soldier?  Do your ears hand low? 

 

Ferne wore many hats.  She liked hats.  She liked songs about hats.  “My hat it has three corners.  Three corners has my hat.  And if it had not three corners.  It would not be my hat.” 

 

Ferne was a patriot.  She loved the military.  She was a member of what has been described as the greatest generation during a special time in our country—World War II.  She volunteered for the USO.  Her husband was a chief in the Navy.  Her brothers served in the military.  So many of her friends were service members in the military.  She never forgot my father’s service in the Navy, surviving the Pearl Harbor attack. 

 

Ferne loved to throw a party.  Her parties were epic.  The food was always amazing and usually included a full meal, not just finger food or appetizers. The more guests, the merrier, despite Buzz’s protests.  There was always plenty to eat and drink.  And the ping-pong lasted until the wee hours of the morning. 

 

While Jill and I were living in Montana, we would return to Pleasanton for the holidays.  On one occasion, she planned a big party for us, kind of a welcome home from the wilds of Montana.  She had prepared all sorts of food.  It was quite a spread.  Unfortunately, due to bad weather, our flight was cancelled and we had to take a long 24-hour bus ride from Missoula to Oakland.  The party had to be postponed.  Rather than wasting the food that she had prepared for the party, she took it down to the convalescent home so that the residents could enjoy it. 

 

Ferne had a playful spirit, quick wit, and wonderful sense of humor.  I can remember riding in the car with her and Jill, noticing all of these truck drivers driving by, looking over to our car, waving, and honking their horns.  I wondered, “What is it with these truck drivers?”  Then I looked over and saw Jill and her mother smiling and waving and giving the “honking” signal to the truck drivers.  Ferne asked me, “Didn’t your mom ever do this?”  I told her that my mom did not even drive on the freeway.    

 

She was so excited about the fact that I was a twin.  For my brother Mark’s wedding, she was so excited that we had similar haircuts and looked so much alike.  She was quite amused when the photographer came up to me during the reception, thinking that I was the groom.  At one of our parties, she suggested that Mark and I switch nametags.  People had no clue and really believed that I was Mark and he was me.  They came up to me asking about their teeth and asked Mark about theories of behavior and mind games.  When we finally told them what we had done, they were so confused and for the rest of the evening were not sure which twin with whom they were chatting. 

 

Ferne was at times accused by her husband Buzz of being a hard-headed Dane.  She certainly let you know when she felt strongly about something.  She had a fire in her belly and passion for sticking up for what is right.  She used to say: “Right is right and wrong is wrong.”  When something made her mad, one of her favorite sayings was:  “I’m madder than a hornet.” Another one of her sayings was: “I’m going to tear you in two.”  One time, she caught Jill doing something naughty and Jill started crying.  She asked Jill, “Why are you crying?”  Jill told her, “You’re going to tear me in two.”

 

Ferne was not only an accomplished hair stylist and kindergarten teacher, but also a successful business woman.  She partnered with a brilliant chemical engineer, Ray Heiskell, to run Epoxy Coatings.  She was an amazing bookkeeper and used her knowledge of art and color in the lab to help formulate and test coatings for fishing rods and other materials.  Her partner Ray was a chemical engineer with absolutely no people skills and she was the public relations expert with the best of people skills.  She made this sometimes challenging partnership work for several years. 

 

Ferne was an amazing grandma, so proud of her grandchildren, James and Liz, so supportive, so loving, and generous to them.  She told them so often how proud she was of their accomplishments.  Her letters to them always included comments of pride, support, and encouragement.  She loved the holidays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter.  She loved being Mrs. Claus.  She loved watching the joy on the kid’s faces. 

 

Ferne was an amazing mom.  She loved her one and only daughter, Jill, so much.  Jill was her pride and joy.  But, as we know, she had many children in the sense that she was like a mom to other children: Nita, Jerry, Beth Ann, Naman, and Sue.  As she once explained to the waitress during her 95th birthday luncheon, “I have many children…each by a different father.  Hearing this, the waitress nearly fainted and we all burst out in laughter. 

 

She was always good to me.  If Jill was giving me a bad time about something (which I usually deserved), Ferne would tell Jill “Be nice to Tim.”  Most moms would stick up for their daughter in such situations, but there she was sticking up for me, probably because she knew I was outgunned and need all the help I could get. 

 

Six years ago, when I was battling bladder cancer, she was such a source of support.  She stayed by Jill’s side during my surgery, hospital stay, and recuperation at home.  When I came home from the hospital, she was staying with us.  I remember how startled she was to see me walk through the front door.  I think she was expecting me to be rolled in on a gurney. 

 

For me, her greatest gift was Jill, her daughter and best friend, and my wife and my best friend.  Ferne lives on in our hearts.  She also lives on in the mannerisms and personality of Jill—the energy, generosity, warmth, and kind heart.  Jill and I just celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary.  I am looking forward to our returning here to the Pleasanton Hotel in five years to celebrate our 50th.

 

I am blessed to have had the most amazing mother-in-law ever.  She was the best.  She was always so good to me.  Ferne, we love you.  We miss you.  We are comforted by knowing that you are at peace and that you are reunited with your husband, brothers, parents, members of the Knudsen and Andersen families, and so many dear friends.  I can see you playing the piano, enjoying your favorite beverage (Black Velvet and water), telling stories, having fun.

 

To conclude, I would like to read a poem entitled A Mother’s Message From Heaven – By Virginia (Ginny) Ellis.  I can hear Ferne saying these words to Jill and to all of us. 

 

I see you my darling, all the time,
I know everything you do.
Would you believe, my dearest child
I’m even closer now to you!
 

I can see inside your mind,
Indeed, inside your heart,
I even know you better now,
Than I did before, sweetheart.
 

I’ve always loved you – you know that,
But maybe now I love you more,
I love the adult that you’ve become,
Just as I loved the child before.
 

I know how much you miss me,
Well, I surely miss you, too.
I miss our talking and our laughing,
And all we used to do.
 

Whether you are six or sixty,
You’ll always be my precious child.
You’re the baby that I carried
And the adult that helped me smile.
 

What you need to understand,
Though death has taken me away,
Is that I’ve not left you, my darling.
I am still with you today.
 

My family, I could never leave you;
God, of course, would not want that.
Physically, we are apart,
But our hearts are still attached.
 

I love you all the time,
You cannot get away from me.
That’s the way a Mother is
Right until eternity.
 

Every day I’m with you
I see you from above,
And I want for you to know
How very much you’re dearly loved.

 

Tim Carmody